Animal Poems

Animals Poems - Nature's Wild Beauty

The animal kingdom is filled with almost an infinite variety of creatures. Scientists discover new species and subspecies every year. Each one is a wonder unto itself and one could labor for years to uncover its secrets. It is an unfortunate fact that the closest that most of us get to wildlife is through bars at the zoo. Our urban lifestyle has the effect of cutting us off from the glorious world of the animal kingdom. Every animal has a lesson to teach us that we are not hearing. We may think that we have evolved away from contact with animal kingdom, the question is, at what cost?

21 Poems about the Beauty of Animals

1 - 20 of 21

Sort By

1. The Tyger

William Blake became an apprentice to an engraver at a young age, which was an inspiration for many of his poems. The Tyger in this poem is a symbol of creation and the presence of both good and evil in this world. The Tyger is written in Quatrains (4 line stanzas) and follows an AABB rhyme scheme.
- By William Blake
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 0
- Shares 1836
- Favorited 14
- Votes 176
- Rating 4.33

2. A Bird Came Down The Walk

A poem about birds from Emily Dickinson. Considered by many to be one of the best American Poets. What about this poem makes it a classic?
- By Emily Dickinson
A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.

A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.

And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad,--
They looked like frightened beads, I thought;
He stirred his velvet head

Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home

Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, plashless, as they swim.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 2
- Shares 1051
- Favorited 9
- Votes 81
- Rating 4.21
Featured Shared Story

I take walks daily with my dog to visit and hang out with friends. Fall is the prettiest show-off with her colorful jewels! The birds and squirrels play hide and seek within and keep me...

Read complete story

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (2)

3. The Fish

This famous narrative poem transforms an ordinary moment into a gripping story about the moment when the Hunter meets the Hunted. The fisherwoman's catch of a tremendous fish takes an unexpected diversion when she takes the opportunity to observe it at close range. The life story of The Fish as told by its battle scars and beautiful fishiness gives the encounter a personal side and result in things taking an unexpected turn.
- By Elizabeth Bishop
I caught a tremendous fish
and held him beside the boat
half out of water, with my hook
fast in a corner of his mouth.

I caught a tremendous fish
and held him beside the boat
half out of water, with my hook
fast in a corner of his mouth.
He didn’t fight.
He hadn’t fought at all.
He hung a grunting weight,
battered and venerable
and homely. Here and there
his brown skin hung in strips
like ancient wallpaper,
and its pattern of darker brown
was like wallpaper:
shapes like full-blown roses
stained and lost through age.
He was speckled with barnacles,
fine rosettes of lime,
and infested
with tiny white sea-lice,
and underneath two or three
rags of green weed hung down.
While his gills were breathing in
the terrible oxygen
—the frightening gills,
fresh and crisp with blood,
that can cut so badly—
I thought of the coarse white flesh
packed in like feathers,
the big bones and the little bones,
the dramatic reds and blacks
of his shiny entrails,
and the pink swim-bladder
like a big peony.
I looked into his eyes
which were far larger than mine
but shallower, and yellowed,
the irises backed and packed
with tarnished tinfoil
seen through the lenses
of old scratched isinglass.
They shifted a little, but not
to return my stare.
—It was more like the tipping
of an object toward the light.
I admired his sullen face,
the mechanism of his jaw,
and then I saw
that from his lower lip
—if you could call it a lip—
grim, wet, and weaponlike,
hung five old pieces of fish-line,
or four and a wire leader
with the swivel still attached,
with all their five big hooks
grown firmly in his mouth.
A green line, frayed at the end
where he broke it, two heavier lines,
and a fine black thread
still crimped from the strain and snap
when it broke and he got away.
Like medals with their ribbons
frayed and wavering,
a five-haired beard of wisdom
trailing from his aching jaw.
I stared and stared
and victory filled up
the little rented boat,
from the pool of bilge
where oil had spread a rainbow
around the rusted engine
to the bailer rusted orange,
the sun-cracked thwarts,
the oarlocks on their strings,
the gunnels—until everything
was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!
And I let the fish go.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 0
- Shares 1003
- Favorited 2
- Votes 68
- Rating 3.69
4. Whales: An Innocent Death

Hi, my name is Chelsie. I am 14 years old and, I am very passionate about all animals, especially whales. I actually wrote this poem in English class, but my teacher never marked it, so I don't know how good it is. I wrote it because I think whaling is an issue that needs to be brought up more often in order to help stop it. I have been trying to express my feelings about whaling in so many ways: making posters, posting videos on the internet, and so much more, but none of them felt right until I wrote this poem. Again, I'm not sure how good it is, but I hope it'll create more awareness.
- By Chelsie Woodhead
- Published: September 2008 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
Poem Bringing Attention To Whaling

As the gentle giants swim through the sea,
Not expecting a thing,
A sharp metal object is heading their way,
And they feel a sharp sting.

As the gentle giants swim through the sea,
Not expecting a thing,
A sharp metal object is heading their way,
And they feel a sharp sting.

They don't know what happened,
But they feel a lot of pain,
The innocent creatures,
Are pulled up by a chain.

Now they've figured it out,
They know what's going on,
A whaling harpoon has hit them,
A massive violent gun.

As they're pulled up to the whaling ship,
Their condition deteriorates,
They get weaker and weaker,
They're in a terrible state.

The last thing they see,
Just before they die,
Is the satisfied look,
In the fisherman's eye.

I hope this proves,
How cruel whaling is,
Well how would you like it,
If you were treated like this?

More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 17
- Shares 1813
- Favorited 13
- Votes 417
- Rating 4.46
Featured Shared Story

It was a heartfelt poem. I was really touched by it. I definitely agree that whaling should stop. Whales are my favorite animals.

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (17)

5. Cry Of Wolves

Wolves are wild and beautiful, the heart of the wilderness. Man seems to be foe to everything else on earth including their fellow man.
- By Shelagh Bullman
- Published: January 2011 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
Rulers of the night, the wilderness is your home,
Man in his ignorance won't leave you alone,
Strong together you hunt for survival,
Man and his gun your only rival.

Rulers of the night, the wilderness is your home,
Man in his ignorance won't leave you alone,
Strong together you hunt for survival,
Man and his gun your only rival.

Mistress of the moon, shadows dancing on Northern skies,
I hear your torment and mournful cries,
Running, hunting, surviving, dying,
From frozen mountain tops I hear your crying.

Great warriors of the night,
I wish you strength and stamina,
Courage in your plight.
You are the heart of the wilderness,
Cool air and mountain snow,
You are part of this land but man is your foe.

So once again the dark night becomes black,
And howling is heard as wolves gather and pack,
With spirit and fight, stamina and charm,
Let no man destroy you, you mean them no harm.

Brave warriors of the night,
In the wilderness be,
Wise and cunning hunters,
Forever be free.

Let your howling join the earth,
May you hunt with no fear,
Let the mountains echo out,
The howl of wolves that fills the mountain air.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 4
- Shares 4743
- Favorited 31
- Votes 692
- Rating 4.48
Featured Shared Story

Wolves. Such beautiful creatures you are, and yet, man is out to destroy you. What did you ever do wrong? This was your land for generations. Now it is filled with dim echoes of the forest it...

Read complete story

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (4)
6. The Eagle

In this short poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892), he captures the majesty of an eagle hunting from the top of a cliff. This descriptive poem is comprised of tercets (three-line stanzas).
- By Alfred Tennyson
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 1
- Shares 1063
- Favorited 7
- Votes 198
- Rating 4.09
Featured Shared Story

This poem touched my heart as no other poem has. I love nature and most poems don't interest me. When I can, I am outside in nature and when I have to go inside, I fall just like the Eagle at...

Read complete story

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)
7. A Minor Bird

When a person is in a depressed mood even the beautiful song of a bird is grating. Of course, after that moment of irritation, one realizes the problem is not with the bird but with you.
- By Robert Frost
I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;

Have clapped my hands at him from the door

I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;

Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.

The fault must partly have been in me.
The bird was not to blame for his key.

And of course there must be something wrong
In wanting to silence any song.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 1
- Shares 1913
- Favorited 9
- Votes 161
- Rating 4.06
Featured Shared Story

I laughed at this poem. I have felt the same way at times. I live in the country, and there is nothing more peaceful than listening to God's natural sounds of nature, but it’s just like any...

Read complete story

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)
8. A Narrow Fellow In The Grass

When the poem was published in the Springfield Daily Republican (Feb. 14, 1866), it was entitled "The Snake."
- By Emily Dickinson
A narrow fellow in the grass
Occasionally rides;
You may have met him,--did you not,
His notice sudden is.

A narrow fellow in the grass
Occasionally rides;
You may have met him,--did you not,
His notice sudden is.

The grass divides as with a comb,
A spotted shaft is seen;
And then it closes at your feet
And opens further on.

He likes a boggy acre,
A floor too cool for corn.
Yet when a child, and barefoot,
I more than once, at morn,

Have passed, I thought, a whip-lash
Unbraiding in the sun,--
When, stooping to secure it,
It wrinkled, and was gone.

Several of nature's people
I know, and they know me;
I feel for them a transport
Of cordiality;

But never met this fellow,
Attended or alone,
Without a tighter breathing,
And zero at the bone.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 0
- Shares 349
- Favorited 2
- Votes 15
- Rating 3.87

9. Wild Horses

Picture these beautiful wild horses, hear their thundering hooves, feel the freedom.
- By Shelagh Bullman
- Published: September 2010 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
Thunder of hooves across the land,
A gallant proud stallion is leading his band,
With grace and beauty they gallop and run,
Enjoying the freedom and warmth of the sun.

Thunder of hooves across the land,
A gallant proud stallion is leading his band,
With grace and beauty they gallop and run,
Enjoying the freedom and warmth of the sun.

They stop and graze on grassy plains,
With only the wind to groom their manes,
No man can govern where they roam,
Fence-less pastures their only home.

Stand proud wild horses with spirit strong,
In man-less land where you belong,
Untamed you gallop on land through sea,
Forever wild ..... Forever free.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 1
- Shares 3976
- Favorited 18
- Votes 447
- Rating 4.46
Featured Shared Story

Incredible! This poem is so good, one in a thousand horse poems!

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)
10. Ode To A Zebra

I am a free-spirited artist with a passion for animals and nature.
- By Robynne Meulemans
- Published: August 2017 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
I'm a stunning display of black and white,
Contrasting stripes to captivate sight.

My mane stands up straight and proud.

I'm a stunning display of black and white,
Contrasting stripes to captivate sight.

My mane stands up straight and proud.
Every visual detail about me is loud.

Black with white stripes is what they say.
This matters not; I'm beautiful either way.

Never domesticated; no, not me.
I'm a zebra and I need to roam free.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 0
- Shares 1263
- Favorited 5
- Votes 145
- Rating 4.34
11. A Butterfly Life

I was always fascinated by butterflies. You can't really see their emotions, but I choose to think that they are happy creatures. I was inspired to write this poem from all the butterflies who live in my garden. They will always be my favorite insect of all.
- By Sarah Zylstra
- Published: June 2014 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
Poem About Butterflies

As the caterpillar sleeps inside its cocoon
Like a baby wrapped in her blanket
She waits and waits until she blooms
Into a beautiful new life

As the caterpillar sleeps inside its cocoon
Like a baby wrapped in her blanket
She waits and waits until she blooms
Into a beautiful new life
With wings of deep sapphire blue
She takes her first flight, soaring high
Into the clear cornflower sky
She flutters over to perch on the pink flowers
To sip the sweet nectar of pure gold
But this butterfly is daintier than a ballerina
Like a leaf in the wind, but controlled
So delicate and fragile
But so free, so free this butterfly will always be.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 2
- Shares 1400
- Favorited 12
- Votes 149
- Rating 4.23
Featured Shared Story

This poem caught my attention at the very last moment and I had given it to my 10 yr old daughter for memorizing within an hour for her elocution contest and to my surprise she was selected...

Read complete story

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (2)
12. Food

The food chain cycle never ends, and it never will end until every one of the upline predators has died and the only thing left alive is something similar to the one-celled primal ancestor of us all. If you are reading this, you are the most deadly predator to ever stalk this planet. Good hunting to you and ... try not to be dinner.
- By Ted L Glines
- Published: July 2008 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
The Predator's Hunt

Crouched in grasses - sun is sinking
food will come for evening drinking
silent - still - panting - thinking,
resting in the heat of sun.

Crouched in grasses - sun is sinking
food will come for evening drinking
silent - still - panting - thinking,
resting in the heat of sun.

Sun goes down and sky is red
food is coming - scent is read
lust for blood engulfs my head,
muscles tense for coming run.

Here they come by twos and threes
down to water - on their knees
no scent of me is on the breeze,
my hunt is only now begun.

There's one limping - limping still
he can't run with speed or skill
he'll be my food - my easy kill,
mark him well for he's the one.

Rising - tensing for the fray
alarmed - the herd stampedes away
thundering hooves - all but my prey,
my hunger peaks - this hunt is won.

Explode from cover - extending claws
closing fast on lightning paws
pounce - his throat between my jaws,
hold him down til kicking's done.

Feasting now in cool of night
flesh tastes rich and blood is bright
hyenas hanging back in fright,
I'll hunt again with newborn sun.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 0
- Shares 580
- Favorited 1
- Votes 75
- Rating 3.88

13. The Humblebee

Ralph Waldo Emerson was an American essayist, poet, and lecturer who lived from 1803-1882. Emerson believed that nature has knowledge for man to learn, but one must be attentive and willing to study the messages it presents. Emerson believed in the perfection of the natural world because it was not created by humans. This poem touches on the greatness of nature. The bee is seen as a symbol of innocence, and bumblebees used to be known as "humble bees." They are so intent on getting nectar that it's possible to pet them.
- By Ralph Waldo Emerson
Burly dozing humblebee!
Where thou art is clime for me.
Let them sail for Porto Rique,
Far-off heats through seas to seek,

Burly dozing humblebee!
Where thou art is clime for me.
Let them sail for Porto Rique,
Far-off heats through seas to seek,
I will follow thee alone,
Thou animated torrid zone!
Zig-zag steerer, desert-cheerer,
Let me chase thy waving lines,
Keep me nearer, me thy hearer,
Singing over shrubs and vines.

Insect lover of the sun,
Joy of thy dominion!
Sailor of the atmosphere,
Swimmer through the waves of air,
Voyager of light and noon,
Epicurean of June,
Wait I prithee, till I come
Within ear-shot of thy hum,--
All without is martyrdom.

When the south wind, in May days,
With a net of shining haze,
Silvers the horizon wall,
And, with softness touching all,
Tints the human countenance
With a color of romance,
And, infusing subtle heats,
Turns the sod to violets,
Thou in sunny solitudes,
Rover of the underwoods,
The green silence dost displace,
With thy mellow breezy bass.

Hot midsummer's petted crone,
Sweet to me thy drowsy tune,
Telling of countless sunny hours,
Long days, and solid banks of flowers,
Of gulfs of sweetness without bound
In Indian wildernesses found,
Of Syrian peace, immortal leisure,
Firmest cheer and bird-like pleasure.

Aught unsavory or unclean,
Hath my insect never seen,
But violets and bilberry bells,
Maple sap and daffodels,
Grass with green flag half-mast high,
Succory to match the sky,
Columbine with horn of honey,
Scented fern, and agrimony,
Clover, catch fly, adders-tongue,
And brier-roses dwelt among;
All beside was unknown waste,
All was picture as he passed.

Wiser far than human seer,
Yellow-breeched philosopher!
Seeing only what is fair,
Sipping only what is sweet,
Thou dost mock at fate and care,
Leave the chaff and take the wheat,
When the fierce north-western blast
Cools sea and land so far and fast,
Thou already slumberest deep,--
Woe and want thou canst out-sleep,--
Want and woe which torture us,
Thy sleep makes ridiculous
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 1
- Shares 344
- Favorited 3
- Votes 34
- Rating 3.82
Featured Shared Story

This poem really touched me. Fantastic work, truly beautiful.

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)
14. Prairie-Dog Town

Mary Hunter Austin was born in 1868 and died in 1934. This poem, like much of her writings, focuses on nature and animals.
- By Mary Hunter Austin
Old Peter Prairie-dog
Builds him a house
In Prairie-Dog Town,
With a door that goes down

Old Peter Prairie-dog
Builds him a house
In Prairie-Dog Town,
With a door that goes down
And down and down,
And a hall that goes under
And under and under,
Where you can't see the lightning,
You can't hear the thunder,
For they don't like thunder
In Prairie-Dog Town.

Old Peter Prairie-Dog
Digs him a cellar
In Prairie-Dog Town,
With a ceiling that is arched
And a wall that is round,
And the earth he takes out he makes into a mound.
And the hall and the cellar
Are dark as dark,
And you can't see a spark,
Not a single spark;
And the way to them cannot be found.

Old Peter Prairie-Dog
Knows a very clever trick
Of behaving like a stick
When he hears a sudden sound,
Like an old dead stick;
And when you turn your head
He'll jump quick, quick,
And be another stick
When you look around.
It is a clever trick,
And it keeps him safe and sound
In the cellar and the halls
That are under the mound
In Prairie-Dog Town.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 0
- Shares 503
- Favorited 3
- Votes 68
- Rating 3.54
15. An Unmarked Grave

This poem was inspired when I saw a single bird fall straight from the sky into a bunch of bushes. No one else noticed it and no one would ever notice it. This got me thinking about just how many birds die silently, without recognition... this in turn inspired the bleak but beautiful poem about a bird's final minutes and silent grave.
- By Isaac R. Brunacci
- Published: March 2020 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
The Loss Of A Bird

The Nightingale sang her song
For all the world to hear.
She sang it loud, she sang it true
To all that had an ear.

The Nightingale sang her song
For all the world to hear.
She sang it loud, she sang it true
To all that had an ear.

Until one day that glory-bird,
She landed on a wire,
And not just any wire was this,
But barbed, and cut like fire.

Her song-tune changed, with desperate cry.
Again, she rent the air,
But beauty did her song now lack
And t'was no longer fair.

Reflected in that song so bitter
The burning of her chest,
The aching, jagged, gushing hole
Through which she stained her vest.

Once snowy-white, now red with blood,
Her head, it sagged so low.
And with one squeak, her eyes did close.
No more were they to glow.

And though her magic song is gone,
No more to bless the ear,
No one will miss her voice or tune
Nor mourn her passing here.

For many other birds will sing
And most as sweet as she,
But ne'er again will it be heard
That voice that was so free.

And there she stayed, on thorn so hard
Until she fell away.
Only a mark, a stain of red
Shows truly where she lay.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 1
- Shares 372
- Favorited 11
- Votes 117
- Rating 4.36
Featured Shared Story

This is touching and well spiced with rhetorical devices.

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)
16. Wild Horse Survival

The survival of the wild horse. Wild horses are beautiful, powerful and display strength and grace.
- By Trish Beckwith
- Published: November 2007 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
Poem About The Beauty Of Wild Horses

Aloft the wind
I ride the night sky
I see the world through a much different eye

Aloft the wind
I ride the night sky
I see the world through a much different eye

Power, beauty
Strength and grace
I feel the spirits of ancestral space

Pride of herd
Sisters and brothers
I live ever watchful standing by others

A kaleidoscope of colors
No two ever the same
The short, the tall, the long of mane

I know the chance
I know the fear
I live on the edge for death crouches near

On my back I carry a load
Through storm and calm
Ever vigilant and bold

I have died in battle
Killed by man
Hunted by predator as I roamed the land

No more room
Not enough grazing
Captured, shot, sold by pound on bills of lading

Yet I survive
Sometimes an insurmountable course
I am feral, I am Mustang, I am Wild Horse
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 3
- Shares 753
- Favorited 9
- Votes 149
- Rating 4.30
Featured Shared Story

There is a very powerful message in this poem! Horses are a wonderful creature...very elegant, graceful, charming, and spirited! My family had three Appaloosas we use to board on Cooke's...

Read complete story

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (3)
17. Spiders

I was just looking at a spider one day in the kitchen while having a cup of tea.
- By Marie Tully
- Published: May 2011 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
You should always keep a spider
At least one in every room
Give them a little corner
With an offering of food

You should always keep a spider
At least one in every room
Give them a little corner
With an offering of food

They'll spin away at night
And they'll hunt for you by day
Keeping your house clean of pests
In their very special way

So do not go hard with insect spray
When bluebottles and flies come your way
Remember the little spiders
Who hide themselves away
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 1
- Shares 264
- Favorited 3
- Votes 21
- Rating 4.24
Featured Shared Story

Wow, spiders. I am not fond of them. I know they can't eat much, but I don't want them crawling on me. Once my daughters found a tarantula and wanted him for a pet, so they put him in a class...

Read complete story

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)
18. Animal

I wrote this poem as I was watching some squirrels play. I got to thinking, animals go through the same emotions we do. They have families, mothers who gave birth to them, but they can't cry or complain. They just can't express themselves through words like we can. I often wonder if that's a better way of living life...
- By Kori Stricker
- Published: September 2008 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
Poem About Animals Having Feelings

I was born one day to the sunny sky;
The light was quite a surprise.
My mother fed me and kept me warm,
While I was small in size.

I was born one day to the sunny sky;
The light was quite a surprise.
My mother fed me and kept me warm,
While I was small in size.

I had a brother, close to my age,
To play with every day.
A feeling of fun I learned,
Made me happy in every way.

The days went on and I got older;
Winter rose before my eyes.
I felt cold and numb at night,
Waiting for the sun to rise.

I was running through the field one day;
I fell and hurt my toe.
A feeling of pain and discomfort I found;
Tears began to flow.

Days went on and I've healed and gotten better.
Came the season of happy days
And sunny weather.

I don't understand, I know I can't speak,
But this is all true.
I cry, and hurt, and play and love,
I have feelings just like you!
More...

Read Complete Poem
- Stories 1
- Shares 896
- Favorited 8
- Votes 157
- Rating 4.19
Featured Shared Story

It proves animals have feelings too. They are the same as humans.

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)
19. Tiger Dance

Have you ever tried to dance with a tiger, more importantly...do you think you can keep up?
- By Carconti Etva
- Published: November 2008 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
A Poem On Power And Survival In The Animal Kingdom

Sleek, slender, cracking whip
dip, arch, circle,
agile, quick, deceitfully frail,
is the delicate Art of the tiger Tail

Sleek, slender, cracking whip
dip, arch, circle,
agile, quick, deceitfully frail,
is the delicate Art of the tiger Tail

Sharp, focused, all seeing orbs
dart, stalk, shimmer,
clear, intelligent, decidedly sly,
is the dangerous Glint of the tiger eye

Strong, crude, ensnaring traps
catch, beat, claim,
savage, unfaltering, with addition of claw,
is the brutal Work of the tiger Paw

Bloody, pointed, end of the game
devour, tear, shred,
and you with your final note sang
are taken by the ravenous tiger Fang

I walk away without giving you a second glance.
It's your own fault you couldn't keep with the Tiger Dance.
More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 0
- Shares 424
- Favorited 6
- Votes 52
- Rating 4.04
20. The Bee

I have just started Year 11 and have been inspired by my Teacher and a movie we watched - Dead Poets Society.
My Teacher asked that our class write a poem on something that happens every day. I decided to write about a bee, because people see them all the time but only recognize them for their sting. My poem (the first) tries to show both sides to the bee.
- By Alexander
- Published: February 2009 by Family Friend Poems with the permission of the Author.
The flapping of its wings similar to a fly,
But when listening carefully you can hear the droning reply.

Once heard you immediately know its purpose,

The flapping of its wings similar to a fly,
But when listening carefully you can hear the droning reply.

Once heard you immediately know its purpose,
Yellow flowers, black flowers - collecting pollen to surplus.

Buzzing flower to flower,
Flying aimlessly through the sky.
People may be reluctant to admit,
There is more than meets the eye.

It holds the pollen close to its chest like a baby.
Its pride, passion, life - even more maybe.

Though there comes a time when life must end.
Sting, buzzing, silence.
But before this it must go through what we cannot comprehend.
Organs torn, it carries on - Flower to flower. Weaker and weaker.
Dead before long

The yellow for pollen and honey,
The black for sting and bulbous eyes.
These are the colours that represent,
The bee's striped lines of life and death.

More...
Read Complete Poem
- Stories 1
- Shares 245
- Favorited 1
- Votes 26
- Rating 3.85
Featured Shared Story

Oh yes, the bee you are right! People associate the bee as something to sting them. I know I do. I'm allergic to the bee sting. I have to carry an injection to give myself a shot to...

Read complete story

Touched by the poem? Share your story! (1)

1 - 20 of 21

Animal Poems

Animals Poems - Nature's Wild Beauty

21 Poems about the Beauty of Animals

1. The Tyger

William Blake became an apprentice to an engraver at a young age, which was an inspiration for many of his poems. The Tyger in this poem is a symbol of creation and the presence of both good and evil in this world. The Tyger is written in Quatrains (4 line stanzas) and follows an AABB rhyme scheme.

2. A Bird Came Down The Walk

A poem about birds from Emily Dickinson. Considered by many to be one of the best American Poets. What about this poem makes it a classic?

3. The Fish

4. Whales: An Innocent Death

5. Cry Of Wolves

Wolves are wild and beautiful, the heart of the wilderness. Man seems to be foe to everything else on earth including their fellow man.

6. The Eagle

In this short poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892), he captures the majesty of an eagle hunting from the top of a cliff. This descriptive poem is comprised of tercets (three-line stanzas).

7. A Minor Bird

When a person is in a depressed mood even the beautiful song of a bird is grating. Of course, after that moment of irritation, one realizes the problem is not with the bird but with you.

8. A Narrow Fellow In The Grass

When the poem was published in the Springfield Daily Republican (Feb. 14, 1866), it was entitled "The Snake."

9. Wild Horses

Picture these beautiful wild horses, hear their thundering hooves, feel the freedom.

10. Ode To A Zebra

I am a free-spirited artist with a passion for animals and nature.

11. A Butterfly Life

I was always fascinated by butterflies. You can't really see their emotions, but I choose to think that they are happy creatures. I was inspired to write this poem from all the butterflies who live in my garden. They will always be my favorite insect of all.

12. Food

13. The Humblebee

14. Prairie-Dog Town

Mary Hunter Austin was born in 1868 and died in 1934. This poem, like much of her writings, focuses on nature and animals.

15. An Unmarked Grave

16. Wild Horse Survival

The survival of the wild horse. Wild horses are beautiful, powerful and display strength and grace.

17. Spiders

I was just looking at a spider one day in the kitchen while having a cup of tea.

18. Animal

19. Tiger Dance

Have you ever tried to dance with a tiger, more importantly...do you think you can keep up?

20. The Bee